


In Soft Moonlight

by strawberryriver



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bokuto's perspective, High Fantasy, M/M, guardsman bokuto, prince Akaashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 06:44:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11030775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberryriver/pseuds/strawberryriver
Summary: Prince Akaashi was the first prince of the Fukurodani kingdom, poised to inherit the throne from his mother once she felt he was ready. His beauty was common rumor throughout the kingdom, but so was his icy, overly serious demeanor. People rarely spoke about his mysterious eyes or graceful movements without also mentioning how rarely he smiled. It was widely regarded that while Prince Akaashi would be a very capable ruler, he would forever be just out of reach of all those around him.When Bokuto first mentioned he was applying to be a castle guard, his friends teased him plenty about how he was only applying so he could catch a glimpse of the Prince. It wasn’t true, but even if it was and he didn't know going in that even as a castle guard he was unlikely to see the beautiful Prince or his equally stunning mother, it was made perfectly clear on the first day of training. Their very first day was full of rigorous endurance tests, constant sparring, and in their brief moments of respite there was the constant lecturing from the very stern Captain of the guard. Many recruits dropped out after that first day.-----High fantasy AU in which Bokuto is a castle guard who falls in love with the Prince.





	In Soft Moonlight

Prince Akaashi was the first prince of the Fukurodani kingdom, poised to inherit the throne from his mother once she felt he was ready. His beauty was common rumor throughout the kingdom, but so was his icy, overly serious demeanor. People rarely spoke about his mysterious eyes or graceful movements without also mentioning how rarely he smiled. It was widely regarded that while Prince Akaashi would be a very capable ruler, he would forever be just out of reach of all those around him.

When Bokuto first mentioned he was applying to be a castle guard, his friends teased him plenty about how he was only applying so he could catch a glimpse of the Prince. It wasn’t true, but even if it was and he didn't know going in that even as a castle guard he was unlikely to see the beautiful Prince or his equally stunning mother, it was made perfectly clear on the first day of training. Their very first day was full of rigorous endurance tests, constant sparring, and in their brief moments of respite there was the constant lecturing from the very stern Captain of the guard. Many recruits dropped out after that first day.

To Bokuto, it was frustrating how many people were able to give up so easily. Whether it was because the training was too hard or because they wouldn't be able to get close to the Prince, it was unacceptable to put forth so little effort for something so important. Being a castle guard sounded like the most cool and impressive thing someone could do, and that should be enough to drive you through to the end.

The warnings of Captain Sawamura were true, too. For a year Bokuto apprenticed as a guard, shadowing more experienced guardsmen and learning rules and training, building trust between him and his fellow recruits. The day he finally passed his last test and became a fully fledged guard on his own was the single most proud he'd ever felt. But in all that time he never once saw the prince or the queen. They were around, he knew, because the areas they inhabited carried both the traditional guard and their own personal guard, but other than that he'd had no interaction. Not even during their rare public appearances.

No, the first time Bokuto saw Akaashi was purely accidental. He’d gotten himself lost in the Royal Gardens while on the way to his next shift when he found himself in an area closed off by hedges and rose bushes. He would have turned around immediately, but he saw a cloaked figure crouched near a bush that set his senses on edge. Hand on his sword and adrenaline sparking through his veins; Bokuto slowly crept forward, proud of the way he avoiding alerting the intruder.

However, as he approached the figure it slowly dawned on Bokuto that this silhouette was somehow familiar. Dark curls, pale skin, private section of the garden- his heart slammed into his throat when he realized the suspicious figure was _Prince Akaashi,_ bent over a nest of newborn owls that had taken residence in a bush. The usually solemn-faced prince smiled and whispered to the nesting owlets, as he adjusted their nest with some soft bits of fluff, fur from the garden’s cat. Bokuto’s guard training was very strict and clear on what he was supposed to do if he crossed paths with the crown prince, but right now every rigid rule was flung to the breeze as Bokuto drank in the sight before him. He was entranced by the softness which with the prince spoke, gentle words just loud enough to comfort the owlettes. The corners of the prince’s mouth relaxed into the slightest smile, and Bokuto wasn't certain he could ever breathe again or if he even wanted to. If his held breath could pause this moment forever he'd gladly continue it.

Unfortunately, “quietly” wasn’t actually in Bokuto’s vocabulary, and it wasn’t long before Akaashi startled and spun around, alerted by Bokuto’s rough boots shifting and crunching on the gravel as he tried to move closer. Bokuto immediately attempted to fling himself to attention, suddenly remembering every protocol that had previously escaped him, and in trying to perform them all at once he slammed his hand into his face and tripped over his own feet, falling backwards onto his ass.

A stiff silence fell over them as Bokuto looked up at the prince, wide eyed and cursing himself for being so stupid, he should have turned around immediately, he intruded on the prince’s private space in a precious moment and he ruined everything, he's such an idiot-

Except Prince Akaashi was laughing. It was so quiet he could barely hear it over his own mental beration, like bells chiming in a summer breeze, if bells sounded deeper and were even more beautiful than any bells he had ever heard before. Nothing could be better than the sound of this laugh-

“Please don't worry. The nest is undisturbed.”

Oh. Except maybe his speaking voice? Wait, Prince Akaashi was talking to him and he was still on the ground like an asshole, Bokuto scrambled to his feet to form a proper attentive salute but by the time he'd managed to stand and raise his hand, Akaashi had already made his way out of the garden clearing. Bokuto slowly lowered his hand and watched the prince leave, cape fluttering as he walked.

Bokuto understood now, why so many people wanted to be close to the prince.

Since that day Bokuto found himself near prince Akaashi far more often. Guard rotations changed frequently, so he didn't bother to think about it too deeply, but he knew that this kind of rotation was definitely saved for a guardsman with much more experience than a newly graduated initiate. Bokuto wasn't going to complain, and instead the new rotation caused him to practice longer and harder. He wanted to make sure Akaashi would be impressed if he ever had to see him in action. Not that Bokuto wanted Akaashi to see him in action, because if he were in action then that meant Akaashi was in danger and that was unacceptable. Prince Akaashi, that is.

Bokuto relished every moment he saw the prince, and he justified it because he was _supposed_ to watch the prince. As a castle guard he should know everything about the royal family, he should always be aware and alert while they were around, anything he learned would help him better defend both them and the castle. It was just a bonus that Akaashi was the most incredible person he'd ever seen, or met, or interacted with in any way, no matter how brief. Those facts had nothing to do with the way Bokuto’s eyes glued to prince Akaashi as he walked past, flanked on either side by two very serious guards, pangs of jealousy striking in his chest. Being a castle guard was cool and impressive, but the private guard got to spend even more time with the prince. And that, by definition, made them even more cool and impressive.

Bokuto always found it easy to tell when Akaashi was coming, too. Everyone liked to complain about how quietly the prince walked, how it was so easy for Prince Akaashi to sneak up on them, but Bokuto just didn't get it. He once tried to explain to an exasperated kitchen maid; Akaashi’s robes were heavier, they rustled softer and he moved faster but somehow with more purpose, like Akaashi never wasted movement even when walking. She didn't get it though, and his fellow guard Konoha had laughed at his explanation so hard he ended up spilling his soup on the floor. The guards all teased Bokuto about his close attention to the prince, to a frustrating degree. There was nothing wrong with admiring the royal family and besides, didn't they pay close attention too? They’re supposed to, it’s their duty as guardsmen.

All of Bokuto’s frustrations and embarrassment led to a bad night. Filled with thoughts of self doubt, whispering in his ear that he wasn’t _good enough_ to be here, that he didn’t take his work seriously, that they all were just waiting for him to leave so they could laugh at him behind his back. The thoughts crawled over his skin like tiny claws and Bokuto desperately found to the library to hide. It was safe here because no one ever went to the library, at least not the guards, and here he could pout in peace because he _was_ doing a good job, and he _did_ deserve to be here, and Akaashi- his highness, he means- _definitely_ sounded different when he walked, like a heavy swish but not- muffled like the spring breeze that catches the curtains in the throne room, or-

That. Like that soft whoosh slowly approaching his hiding spot. Never in his life had Bokuto been more afraid of being right but forever would he cherish the subtle arch of the Prince’s brows as he halted in the aisle, slender fingers curled around a small stack of books. This time Bokuto remembered his guard training. At least, he remembered some of it. He quickly stood and bowed, waiting just long enough to see Akaashi bow back before holding his hands out for the books. Wordlessly, Akaashi passed them over and Bokuto swore that as the moonlight filtered in through the windows, Akaashi was smiling.

The claws stopped scratching his skin and he felt calm, as if Prince Akaashi’s presence alone were enough to help quell his negativity. After that Bokuto always went to the library at night he waited, not long enough to get impatient, but longer than he would have liked anyway. Akaashi always came, Bokuto always bowed, and after a moment Akaashi would reach out and touch his cheek with gentle fingers, letting him know he could rise. Bokuto followed Akaashi from row to row, holding new books or helping him return old ones. The books were big and thick and the stack was always heavy, but Bokuto never minded. He was too busy thinking about how cold and soft Akaashi's hands were, or watching the moonlight catch his cheeks and eyelashes.

In the moments when the light would just catch Akaashi's eyes, just barely out of reach of the full color, Bokuto would allow himself to feel frustrated with his lack of vocabulary. In those moments he considered getting a dictionary, if only so he had the right words to describe Akaashi. He never did, but the next night he always berated himself for forgetting.

Weeks passed like this, Bokuto leaving his bunk well after hours to wait in the library for Prince Akaashi. Weeks of leaning his arms on his knees as Akaashi read aloud, his voice so low and soft and warm- like the ebb and flow of a gentle tide, rocking against warm summer sand. Akaashi’s fingers following the lines of the page as a seamstress guides her craft, bringing life to words in ways Bokuto never thought possible.

Bokuto could, and frequently did, fall asleep during their late hour visits. Always, he woke as the sun breached against the windows, Akaashi’s deep velvet cloak draped across his shoulders. Always, Bokuto returned the cloak to the laundry, loudly proclaiming that’d he’d found it while out on his morning patrol. And always, the laundresses pretend to believe him, hiding giggles behind their hands as Bokuto dashed away.

The political visits were worse, the castle slowed to a crawl every time Prince Akaashi and the Queen left. It made sense, fewer guards, fewer maids, fewer general staff were all necessary. Nearly everyone received a break when the Royal Family were gone, and most staff enjoyed their light vacation. Most, except for Bokuto. For Bokuto everything was always worse when Akaashi was gone; the clouds were dull, the birds were boring, and Bokuto always found himself more restless than usual. Thoughts crawled around on his skin like ants, worry about Akaashi, anxiety about his return, fear that his guard captain would get fed up with him and he’d be sent away, never allowed to return. Any sense of calm that he found in their nightly library trips was lost and the thoughts crawled their way up his spine, threatening to unravel him if he took a break for even a moment.

Bokuto always took extra shifts while Akaashi was away.

Once while Akaashi was gone, Bokuto was pulled aside by the Knight Captain of the Royal Family personal guard. Bokuto panicked throughout the meeting, trying to find the mistake he'd made, discover the source of the scolding so he could be prepared when the crushing disappointment sunk in. Were they mad about the library? Was Akaashi tired of reading to him? Did he say something stupid and offend the prince? His anxieties were so loud that he barely heard the knight captain tell him that he'd been selected for promotion.

“The prince saw you sparring,” he said, hand resting lightly on his sword. “He was impressed, and one of his current guard has requested leave to go home. You’ll be his replacement.”

Bokuto’s mind shredded from one hundred miles per hour to zero as he processed the information. Slowly he pieced together that being Prince Akaashi’s guard meant that it would be him at Akaashi’s side, pacing the halls and attending meetings. His mind quickly raced back to one hundred miles per hour as he thought of the possibilities. He wouldn't have to sneak to the library, he would attend every visit outside of the castle, he would spend every day at Akaashi’s side. Bokuto grinned widely at the knight captain and bowed before dashing off, barely taking the time to properly accept his new post. If Akaashi saw him and thought he was impressive then he needed to train- right now- to make sure that he was even more impressive when Akaashi returned.

And Akaashi returned, as he always did, but Bokuto did not see him again until it was time for his knighting ceremony. It was a great honor, Bokuto knew, to be selected as Prince Akaashi's personal guard, but all Bokuto could focus on was the way the afternoon sun caught in Akaashi's hair and made it reflect like obsidian water. Except Bokuto had no idea what obsidian was, only that he'd heard someone else use it and thought that it was pretty, and such a pretty word definitely had to apply to Akaashi. People pressed in around him as the ceremony dragged on, but to Bokuto there was always only Akaashi.

Silence pulled Bokuto back to the moment and he realized belatedly that he was supposed to say something here. Only he couldn't remember what he was supposed to say and it was so unfair because he'd stayed up all night to learn it! He'd worked so hard because he wanted Akaashi- prince Akaashi- to be impressed with him and now he was blowing it; he could feel everyone's eyes on him they were definitely gonna take it all back, he wouldn't get to be a guard-

And then Akaashi stood. And he thanked Bokuto for his service, and this was it wasn't it, he was such a failure-

And Akaashi smiled. It was such a beautiful smile that the only thing Bokuto could think to compare it to was the warmest spring day after a bad winter when he finally got to train outside again, and suddenly he didn't feel like such a failure anymore.

“I'm honored to have such a talented guardsman at my side.”

Talented. Bokuto’s mind latched onto that word with lightning speed, that word alone could stave off hundreds of whispered failures. But it was the next phrase that echoed on repeat in his mind, as Bokuto’s grin threatened to split his cheeks.

_At Akaashi's side._

Being on prince Akaashi's personal guard had perks. Bokuto knew it would, he knew the personal guard had better quarters and a nicer uniform, but how could he ever been expected to have to stand guard while water pooled and slipped down Akaashi's clavicle? His guard training taught him not to stare, never stare at the prince, never make eye contact, but how could he avoid looking? Who could avoid looking?

Bokuto found himself jealous of everything in the room, jealous of the other guard, jealous of every guard who did this before it was him, jealous of Akaashi's robe, his towel, the water. Especially the water. It was easier to focus on that than Akaashi's bare body, but it was due to the water that Bokuto caught Akaashi's smile reflecting off the dark surface. It was so _unfair,_ what had the water ever done to deserve such a gift? Akaashi's smiles were small, rare, and flawless, and yet the water got one so easily. It got to touch Akaashi's skin, _he_ could touch Akaashi's skin, _he_ could make him smile-

But he should probably focus on the wall instead.

The greatest perk of being on Akaashi's personal guard wasn't actually bath night. No, it wasn't even close. The best perk was that Akaashi knew his name, and not only did he know his name but he _used_ it. Any time Akaashi needed something. And he said his name different ways, too. Bokuto took pride in learning and knowing what each different inflection meant, knowing that the prince relied on him.

“Bokuto.” Said with a brief gesture, usually meant: _The window needs to be opened._ Or _Please help me carry these documents._

“Bokuto,” Said with amusement, as Akaashi smoothed out the collar on his own shirt. _Your collar is upside down, you should pay more attention when you dress._

“ _Bokuto._ ” Said loudly and with force, usually while handing something important over. _You’re falling asleep in my meeting, and I’m pretending to need assistance so you won’t fall over._

“Bokuto?” Said with a light lilt at the end, and the smallest crease in Akaashi’s brow. _Please stay with me a little longer, even though you’re past your regularly scheduled shift._ Those were always a request, rather than an instruction. Bokuto never said no.

“Bokuto.” Said while they were alone, so softly that Bokuto always half thought he imagined it. He didn’t actually know what this one meant, but he knew he liked it the most.

Bokuto never actually thought much about his own name before this. It suited him, sure, it sounded cool and strong and he definitely liked it; but when Akaashi said it he felt like he could hear stars colliding. He knew he would never get tired of his name so long as Akaashi said it, and he often wondered if his first name would sound the same. He was so wrapped up in this thought that it took several seconds to realize the other guard had been talking to him their whole walk back to the dining hall.

“Huh?”

“I said, I don't know how you stand it.”

“Stand what?” Bokuto asked, brow furrowed as he tried to recall half a conversation he didn't remember having.

“The ordering. He always makes you do stuff, I don't get how you stand it.” The other guard spared Bokuto a pitying look, as if he thought they were on the same page, and Bokuto's brow creased even further. Why would that be a problem? Why wouldn't he want to help Akaashi however he could?

“He's a good ruler. Really smart, and funny. He made a joke yesterday, I didn't get it but I know it was a joke because he always gets this spark in his eyes when he makes one, like a tiny firework- and plus he reads tons! He's always, well, you’ve seen his books, right? Tons of books!” Bokuto was acutely aware that his sentence was rambling and winding and not at all answering the question, but he couldn't stop himself. He was already so consumed with thinking of that night’s library visit when he finally trailed off, that he missed the second, deeper pitying look from the fellow guard. If he had caught it, he might have understood that he'd answered the question anyway.

Being Akaashi’s guard was something Bokuto did with pride. Even if it meant he was also subject to more gossip than he'd ever imagined possible. Meals were the worst. Meals were always spent away from Akaashi, but with the other guards and castle staff, and Bokuto was relentlessly bombarded with questions involving the prince. The worst were the proposal questions, everyone wanted to know who Akaashi spent his time with or wrote letters to. It irritated Bokuto because he didn't have answers for them but they didn’t believe that he didn’t have answers for them. Bokuto wasn’t nosy like they were, as far as he knew Akaashi spent his free time working or with him, and it wasn't like he read Akaashi’s personal letters.

At least, not the ones that weren't meant for him.

Still, Akaashi was a prince and it was likely that he would get married at some point. Bokuto couldn't blame them for being curious, after all, who wouldn't want to spend every moment with Akaashi for the rest of their lives? He did, and it made Bokuto’s chest lighter to imagine that he might.

The summer was the worst time to be a guard. Not because it was busier or more dangerous, it wasn’t really, but it was _hot._ Especially now, at high noon, when Prince Akaashi insisted they sit in the garden. Bokuto could practically feel the hot, stiff cotton and metal melding to his skin. He wanted to whine and complain, but he didn’t want to look like a child in front of Prince Akaashi. Instead he clung to the shade, keeping watch while Akaashi sat on a bench in the sun, face turned towards the warm light. Bokuto couldn’t help that his eyes were drawn to it, sunlight catching the tips of his eyelashes like fairy lights dancing in the summer sky. Bokuto wondered if Akaashi had ever seen them, ever been in the forest at dusk when their lights pulsed in the sticky heat.

He was so lost in thought, imagining Akaashi enveloped in the deep purples and reddish oranges of dusk, fireflies brushing against his hair like a gentle homage to the coming starlight, that he didn’t even hear Akaashi dismiss the other guard. It was only when they snapped to attention and turned heel to leave that Bokuto startled back to present, realizing that Akaashi had turned his gaze to him. Softly, moving with the breeze through the leaves, Akaashi rose and paced the length of the small opening, gently tapping the petals of flowers as he passed.

They were alone now. They’d been alone before, many times before, but this time felt different. The air felt heavier, heavier than his plate armor in the oppressive summer heat. Akaashi seemed like he has something to say, something important that he’d been rehearsing. Bokuto could tell by the way his lips pressed together in a thin line, and his fingers touched anything within their reach, desperate for some way to work out whatever feelings Prince Akaashi was bottling.

Bokuto knew in this situation he should keep quiet. He should wait for the prince to say whatever he wanted to say, he should be patient and calm just like Akaashi. But the silence was even more suffocating than the atmosphere or sun, and Bokuto’s mind kept taking him back to his daydream of Akaashi at dusk, with that slight smile lifting his cheeks-

“You’d look beautiful at sunset.” It took several long, drawn out seconds for Bokuto’s brain to catch up with his mouth. Seconds in which Akaashi’s fingers froze on the stem of a flower, his shoulders turning so he could properly meet Bokuto’s eyes. Panic welled up in Bokuto’s throat and he opened his mouth again, half full of regret and half full of the compulsion to do _something,_ say _anything_ to relieve the shock written across Akaashi’s face.

“Not that you’re not always beautiful! You are! You always look good, I just meant! With the bugs! The fire bugs, the…” Bokuto struggled to find the words, realizing half-way through his poor explanation that he should actually be apologizing. “I. Uh. That wasn’t. It was inappropriate right?” He shouldn’t say those things, not to the Prince, not to someone so ethereal, a word that his mom has used once and he just _knew_ it fit. Fear and guilt joined panic weighing heavily on his chest. This was it, he really blew it this time and he’s be dismissed, he’d never get to hear stories at night or sit in this garden-

Except Akaashi laughed. It wasn’t a soft, or gentle, or polite laugh like Bokuto had heard before. It was rough and loud and it shook Akaashi’s whole chest, causing him to bend over towards his knees. It was a laugh that crinkled the skin around his eyes and when he finally slowed enough the stop, the resulting smile was wide enough to fill his eyes with the kind of light that put Bokuto’s sunset fantasy to shame.

“I spent days, weeks even, reciting how to properly inform you of my feelings and you just…” Akaashi snorted again, raising a hand to touch his nose as his laughter threatened to spill out of control. “You just say something like that, so easily.”

Bokuto’s brow furrowed. This didn’t should like the start to a dismissal speech, confusion wormed it’s way into the restrictive weight of his chest, loosening some of the anxiety but replacing it with a desperation to know. He didn’t understand, and usually when he saw something beautiful he was okay with not understanding; he was okay with just thinking it was nice and not searching for anything deeper. But this was Akaashi, and Bokuto _wanted_ to understand Akaashi. He wanted to know what each vocal inflection meant, each expression, and each gesture.

“I don’t…” Bokuto turned as Akaashi moved away from the edge of the clearing, taking strides longer than necessary and faster than usual to close the distance between them. Suddenly Akaashi was so close that Bokuto could see each fleck of green in his eyes, each tiny freckle flecked across his nose. It was closer than they’d ever been, even in the library. Bokuto’s breath caught in his throat as Akaashi closed the distance and pressed his lips to Bokuto’s, fingers threaded through the strands of hair on the back of his neck. Akaashi’s lips were warm, not hot and uncomfortable, like outside, but warm like the feeling of falling into your bed after a long trip, comforting familiarity surrounding you. Warm like home, and Bokuto wrapped his arms around Akaashi’s waist as he pulled him closer, allowing that warmth to spread from his lips to his chest to the tips of his fingers.

They broke away when their lungs burned, neither willing to fully separate. Bokuto rested his forehead against Akaashi’s enjoying the last moment before Akaashi pulled away. Akaashi smoothed the front of his jacket, adjusted a hem, and offered Bokuto one more smile- a smile that only Bokuto got to see- before he turned and made his way out of the garden. Bokuto followed suit, but unlike Akaashi he was wholly unable to wipe the lopsided grin from his cheeks.

 

\-----------

 

The day he was set to announce his engagement, Akaashi was beautiful. More than usual, anyway, because Bokuto thought Akaashi _always_ looked beautiful no matter what he was doing, even when he was making terse negotiations with their less-than-friendly Nohebi neighbors. Actually, maybe especially then too. Bokuto admired the hard lines of Akaashi's face and the dangerous anger that boiled just beneath his skin, threatened to break loose with one misstep.

Of course, Akaashi never lost control.

His self restraint was beautiful too.

Anyway, the day of Akaashi's engagement announcement he was _especially extra_ beautiful because he was happy. It was hard to tell with Akaashi because he was so good at masking every emotion but Bokuto _knew._ He always knew, because Akaashi let him know. Akaashi let him see the little smiles and frowns, the slight creases in his brow. Bokuto cherished each and every movement because they were all Akaashi and they were all his to know and keep.

The clothes Boluto had to wear during the ceremony were hot and stiff and scratchy and the way the collar rubbed against the back of his neck made it so hard to focus that he regretted telling the seamstress he loved it. He’d admired the intricate gold threading while it was on the mannequin, and he knew, from spending hours in front of a mirror being groomed, that it looked good on him, but now that he was forced to to stand before the lords and ladies of the court, back rigid, it was hell to wear.

Almost.

_Almost_ hell to wear, because any torture was worth the sight of Akaashi sweeping into the room, white velvet cape fanned out behind him. His shoulders evinced confidence, fixed firmly in a straight line that only Bokuto knew was hunched hours earlier, bent over the desk as Akaashi fussed over every word in his speech. Bokuto had been the one to soften his shoulders, speaking praise and admiration over the beautifully written prose and feeling pride as he saw Akaashi relax into his chair, finally setting the speech to rest.

Akaashi was going to look so beautiful. He always looked beautiful but this time Bokuto knew it would be _more._

Once Bokuto wondered if whomever Akaashi married knew how lucky they were. To hear him weave a story every night, and smile to the animals in the garden.

Now, as Bokuto watched the back of his betrothed deliver news of their engagement, he could safely say he knew.

**Author's Note:**

> my first time ever writing from bokuto's perspective....he is an exhausting boy. it turned out longer than i expected but i think i'm pretty pleased with it....and i just love them so much
> 
> come yell with me on my [tumblr](http://strawberryriver.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/keiji_ebooks)!!
> 
> if you request a pairing/prompt in my ask box or over twitter i'll probably write it. probably.


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